Crime and Redemption
by yllimilly
Summary: DROPPED. Stuck in jail, Joey has no one to count on... or does he? Puppyshipping.
1. Visitor

Warning: a ridiculously one-dimensional antagonist ;)

ooo ooooo ooo

A fat, middle-aged man in a uniform smelling of fried chicken escorts Joey into yet another small, dimly lit room with nothing but two folding chairs set across from a grey desk. No sound save for the faint buzzing of the ceiling lights, ragged breaths of the asthmatic man and the occasional squeaks of the rubber soles of Joey's inexpensive new shoes.

Without a word, the older man coarsely motions for the youth to take a seat, closes the door behind them and he uncomfortably takes place on a metal folding chair that is way too narrow for his way too well-fed bottom. He then proceeds to blow his pore ridden nose in a fabric handkerchief that he places back in his pocket. Looking away, Joey lets his eyes browse around.

Sadly, he sees nothing more than bleak walls. Because his new bound life is permanently drenched in artificial light, Joey can't tell what colour they are. Even the skin on the back of his hand would look blue to him if it weren't for the fresh, raspberry hued wounds on his knuckles.

He resists the urge of balling his fist in impatience at the unhurried bureaucrat - the healing skin would crack open again, and he doesn't wish to be seen bleeding in front of whoever-came-to-see-him.

He inhales, exhales, and that calms him down a bit. He takes in these unfamiliar surroundings.

Never been in that particular room before, and it's not quite what he had imagined. Every square inch felt deceptively familiar. All equally impersonal, cold, uninviting, just like the cafeteria, the cell, the bathrooms. Around him, no windows, no plants - everything is blank and nameless, save for a second door.

Behind it, the visitors' room. Joey knows this.

He can hear indistinct chatter, a baby crying. A few other inmates might be there. Surely Yuugi is, too. Or Honda yes, she s definitely there. And Anzu. Maybe even Serenity or one of his parents... No, that's highly improbable. And he can't think of a nice thing to tell his runaway mother or neglectful father.

But lonely as he is, he wouldn't mind seeing them. Surprisingly.

At any rate, Joey would be pleased just to see anyone. Anyone he actually knows, that is. Not a therapist trying to pry his soul open, not a lawyer eager to find a good case to win, not a jaded social worker.

Just talking to someone he shares memories with would be nice, even if the memories themselves might not be.

The man in uniform wipes his nose with the back of his wrist to get rid of an itch and clears his throat comfortably. It's obvious that this task is a hassle for him; he really couldn't bother less if the youngster in front of him gets a visitor or not. Neither does he care that behind that white metallic door, the guests in question might be waiting.

He sighs loudly and finally starts rummaging through the piles of paper covering the little desk, his motions slow and heavy, like his arms were waving around in thick molasses. He is clearly bored out of his skull.

"So... looks like your chinko friends got your message."

The blonde briefly feels the man's gaze on him, but doesn't return it. He wonders what his so-called "chinko friends" will think of his ample, bright orange shirt and trousers. More than the fabric, the one thing he hates about this clothing is the irritating caress of the cheap fabric on his skin.

And no, after two weeks, he still hasn't gotten used to that difficultly bearable textile molestation.

What he longs for is a pair of jeans. His have been sealed in a locker along with his modest belongings. He misses them - they were a second skin to him.

"Sure took a while to get back to you." Joey's not sure whether the man hopes him to respond or if he's merely content with a slow paced monologue.

Satisfied with his remark, the fatter man licks his already greasy thumb to get a grip on the form he'd been looking for, and proceeds to scribble on it.

"Makes you wonder if they care, eh?" He throws the mute young man a quick glance, a peep, hoping perhaps to see a snicker or a hint of sadness.

In vain. Joey is lost in thought, expressionless.

The mute thump of a stamp against the plywood of the desk marks the start of Joey's allowed visit time. He turns eagerly to find out the man is staring at him intently, immobile in his throne. Joey freezes, unsure how to react.

Seeing how the blonde isn't going to address the staff's rude remarks, the man in uniform scoffs, handing him the sheet.

"Once you sign this form here, you can spend thirty minutes in that room."

A nondescript header to the common mortal, but the next best thing to freedom for an inmate like himself: Non-contact Visit Form.

The blonde signs hastily. Handing the form back to the other man, he can't repress his knees from bouncing nervously. He takes another deep breath.

"Take it easy, boy," he adds with a lazy smirk.

As gracefully as he sat, and as slowly, as well, he stands up and shuffles through his keys. He coins another unpleasant comment that went right past Joey's ears. All that matters now is that the lock clicks deliciously.

Joey crosses the threshold to see a camera and the eyes of another staff following him intently. There are five booths lined up, and four of them are occupied by inmates he hasn't really gotten to know yet.

He walks up to the very last booth, the one he presumes is his, glancing at his neighbours' visitors on the way - a young girl with earrings bigger than a hoola hoop and a squirmy baby on her lap; a tough looking but very short man; a guy who looks like he belongs inside with him, an old lady with heavily bleached hair, tied in a tight ponytail...but no one is sitting across his own fortified glass panel.

No, rather, a tall brooding Asian young man can be seen taking long strides in circles, narrow shoulders draped in an unassuming black turtleneck, no trademark laptop or suitcase in sight, arms crossed, eyes condescending as they turn to the blonde, slender lips parting slightly to let a glistening tongue moisten them, ready to spill elegant profanities...

Brown eyes lock into hazel. Joey can't believe it.

Seto Kaiba.

The CEO stands before him, alone, ruled, and... amused? Kaiba grabs his own receiver quicker than his pride would usually let him. "You missed your master, mutt?"

Joey replaces his quizzical look by an all too familiar frown, and a feeling of self importance emerge on the brunette's features - but the cold salute curbs Joey's enthusiasm over the visitor. His swollen lower lip curls in disgust.

"Save your own fucking breath, Kaiba. Your English sucks."

It doesn't, in fact. But Joey is more than happy to have found in the arrogant CEO an imperfection to gnaw at - his horrendous pronunciation.

"Oh, and I assume that underprivileged accent of yours is better?" He chuckles - and Seto Kaiba usually saves his chuckles for the misfortunes of others. Still, there is no trace of the usual anger or resent in Seto's voice, and Joey can't begin to guess the reason behind his good mood.

Did the CEO come here just to mock him, to rub it in? That would surely be his type - to take comfort in the misfortunes of others. But would he fly the Pacific just for that? Again, that would be plausible, given Kaiba's eccentric tastes and renown wealth.

"Listen up, no one asked you to come here. I'm sure a big shot like you have better things to do than fly all the way to the asshole of America and insult worthless scum like me. Let's just switch to Japanese before you say anything that gets me in deeper shit."

There is a certain delay before Kaiba opens his mouth again - Joey can tell he's not used to hearing American English spoken so fast to him.  
"I never said you were a low life scum, Katsuya."

Joey misses on the almost apologetic tone of the brunette's reply. His mood darkens abruptly, like he had lost the temper stamina he used to have when it came to fighting with Kaiba. Hazelnut tinted eyes look away.

"Don't call me by that name."

The blonde's voice, full of intent, managed to silence Kaiba momentarily. He wants to say that he doesn't want to be called a mutt either, or any name for that matter.

For a while, they just eye each other up through the tarnished glass, wordless. Kaiba looks like he dressed overly casually. Perhaps on purpose;  
Judging that he has come up too strong, Kaiba corrects the blonde, this time without a trace of the mockery that was present in his earlier lines.

"Not low life. I said worthless." He casts a seemingly neutral look that was meant to come out as gentle. "I hate being misquoted," he adds with an upward lip curl that was meant to be an... awkward smile?

The blonde, not used to so many never-before-seen facial expression from the CEO, misinterprets the sympathetic smile as inquisitive, and scoffs at the lame attempt at humour.

"Worthless, yes, that does suit you better." He pauses, gives Joey's attire a second glance, slightly disdainful this time. Chilling blue eyes lock into brown ones again. "Just like that outfit. Lovely. " It was a voice sour like a man's wounded pride, and the blond willingly let the venom seep into his mind.

"You sound like a bigger prick in Japanese. Maybe we should switch back to English. I was getting used to you sounding retarded."

"You like it when I sound like a prick, don't you?"

"Shut it."

"We are here together to do precisely the opposite - talk. "

"You are. I ain't."

The two young men's sharp remarks flew too fast, lacked the suggestive taunting that lingered between them a couple years ago. Joey was being unusually sharp and serious - had he changed, or had he reverted to his true self? Where had the goofy, awkward, blushing blonde from their high school days gone?

"Cat's got your tongue, Kaiba? You here to waste my time or are you actually going to say something? You see, I find it interesting that you, looking how you've been avoiding me ever since -"

"If you think I flew all the way from Tokyo just to talk to you, you are wrong, mutt."

Hearing the dreaded nickname made Joey grit his teeth, but Kaiba did not wait for a reply.

"I'm here on business."

"Selling card games to rednecks? Good luck with that." Quick, sharp, tense. But the businessman knows when to grasp a good opportunity, even when worn out from an overseas flight, even when sleep deprived because of jet lag and especially when it comes to smothering his favourite target with spiteful remarks.

"Why do you despise your own kind so?"

"Oh, like you were born into royalty... Seto."

Joey doesn't like to hint at Seto's unfortunate upbringing, and he immediately bites his lip in regret. Tired and disappointed by his first face to face encounter with Joey in almost two years, the CEO doesn't see this. Defeated and annoyed, he furrows his brows, unwillingly revealing the hours of fatigue bagged under his eyes from the strain of the eighteen-hour-long flight.

This conversation is going nowhere. He feels his pocket, then looks at his wrist to realize that he purposely did not bring his cell phone and luxury watch along with him. He quickly estimates about eight or ten minutes have been wasted so far since the beginning of the unpleasant interview.

"Let me get this straight, mutt. You get caught at whatever illegal thing you were doing. You get in jail. You don't call a family member. You don't call your mob boss. You don't call Anzu who happens to be in America. You don't even call Yuugi or Honda. You call me of all people."

"I honestly don't know why I did. I must've been out of my mind," says Joey flatly.

"Oh don't play dumb. We both know why you chose me."

"No you don't." Seto's annoyance spreads to Joey like a virus. "Because I called you on a whim. And you know what? I fucked you on a whim, too. I know now that I really was out of my mind back then."

Not a sound save for the buzzing of the fluorescent lights blinking above the two young men drained by the quarrel they both know could have been avoided.

Taken aback by the strength of his own words, Joey finds himself unable to think of anything else to say. He casts a quick glance at the staff behind hind, forgetting for a moment that the man in uniform is completely unable to understand their conversation. He turns back to Kaiba who throws him the cold glare that makes his shareholders weep.

"I didn't come here to see how you were doing. I have come to visit my new property. You see, the chair you're sitting on, the floor underneath it, even the rags you're wearing, they're all mine now."

ooo ooooo ooo

Thank you to those who took the time to rate or review, or just those who have read the story up to this point! It means a lot to me.

There is a (short) prologue to this, Miranda Warning, in which most of the bases for the story are set.

Special thanks to quibbler149, Charger Warrior and Satsuriku-sama for the advice/beta'ing/proofing!


	2. Interrogator

Mokuba popped another cinammon heart in his mouth.

He sucked eagerly at the sweet, prickly heat for a few seconds, but couldn't resist the urge of grinding the candy between his molars. His mouth was hot and his taste buds, close to climaxing.

Soon enough, though, the rasperry hued confectionary had melted away, and Mokuba forced himself to resist grabbing another one from the decorative tin.

"These are really good, Seto. You'll have to go back to - " he took a look at the embossed letters on the lid - "Chicago, to get me some more!"

The elder Kaiba did not react, as if he hadn't heard anything at all.

He was seated upright in his sofa, which faced the wall opposite to the door between his and his little brother's room. Well, they were more like twin spacious lofts, or suites if you will, serving both as office and bedroom, each equipped with their own state-of-the-art kitchenette and entertainment system.

Mokuba could only see the back of his brother's head in the darkness, seeing how all lights had been turned off - or most likely, never turned on.

Slightly disappointed, but nevertheless used to the obliviousness of his brother, he quietly stepped forward. The room was lit only by the veteran screen of KaibaCorp's most valuable laptop, as always.

He sighed, let his shoulders sag a bit and gave himself a word of encouragement before he gently rested one hip on the couch's leather clad arm, half sitting next to his industrious brother yet eager not to take him by surprise.

They hadn't talked much since his return from America and Mokuba felt something was off in his brother's behaviour. With a gentle approach, he had better chances of having him relax, and maybe open up a bit. He waited a few seconds, and seeing how he was deliberately being ignored, Mokuba poked at his brother's shoulder.

This time, Seto looked up at the visitor.

"Hi." As quickly as it came, his attention deflected from his benjamin. Unresting blue eyes were once again locked on the sacred device. His strutting fingers had never once halted or slowed down their staccato movements on the keyboard.

Mokuba frowned somehow playfully as he put the rattling tin down on the empty space between where the two youths sat. Carefully, and thanks to practiced patience, he used both hands to take the impressive pair of headphones off of Seto's head. They were massive and easy on the eyes. He seized them for a moment, appreciative of the product.

Lean fingers set a firm hold on the device, and Mokuba lifted his eyes to see Seto's glare piercing the semidarkness.

"Do. Not. Play with these. " He lightly yanked at the headphones as soon as he felt Mokuba's grasp on them weaken.

He was about put them back on, but suspended his gesture in midair, then secured them on his lap. He turned to his little brother with a humorous smirk. "They're not toys, you know. What are you, seventeen? "

"Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. " The raven haired boy pulled a slow punch on Seto's shoulder while avoiding his big brother's pretense attempt at ruffling his infamous, untameable hair. Something he used to do a lot when they were 'kids'.

"Seriously though, these are awesome! Did you bring them from America, too? " He pouted his lips with envy. "And all I got was boxed candy. Not that I'm complaining. I think I'm getting addicted to them already. " Sporting a grin that was less impish, and more friendly that it used to be, Mokuba motioned towards the tin, inviting Seto to help himself to it.

"Not for me. " The brunet paused as if to recollect his thoughts.

"I did bring you a pair, though. Did they not make it to Tokyo? I had them mailed to your flat as soon as I set foot into the airport. "

Mokuba's cheeks flushed a bit, but it was undiscernable in the cold, blueish light emitted by the device waiting on Seto's lap. "To be honest I spent some time in Yokohama before I took the bullet train to Domino, so I probably missed the delivery. Sorry about that. Besides, " he added in his defence, "what I miss is my actual brother, not the bribes he sends me when he feels bad for neglecting me! "

"Well well. That's how you express your gratitude towards your so called, brother, who slaves away everyday to finance your college lifestyle", Seto teased back, earning a meaningful look from the student. He lowered his eyes, and let them wander around the edges of the computer screen. "I thought you'd enjoy them", he added in a more solemn tone. "In your free time..."

Mokuba knew very well to what Seto was referring to. Having forcibly spent all their time together as teenagers, the Kaiba brothers were not known to have any friends but each other. When Mokuba expressed the desire to study away from home, Seto immediately assumed that he wouldn't be able to adapt, and that he, as the elder, was to blame.

Hence his first encounter with this thing called 'guilt'.

"I'm sure I will, Seto. But - and it's not the first time I'm telling you this - I do have friends in Tokyo and I'm doing just fine. And no," he added quickly before his brother could place a word, I don't need you to assign more men to watch over me in Tokyo. " Mokuba wasn't supposed to be aware of it, seeing how he had never been informed, but the bodyguard's presence near his home had become obvious with time... he knew it was better to let Seto think he knew less than he did, but he wanted to prove his brother he was smart and observant; worthy of the surname Kaiba.

The CEO's features hardened a bit. "We'll see about that. " Mokuba closed his eyes for a second to repress a sigh. He wondered when Seto would ever stop babying him. "Besides, someone has to make sure you're actually studying and not drowning your neurones in alcohol.

Mokuba let out a polite laugh. Gee, was it him, or was Seto Kaiba, the great master of wit, getting rusty?

"Sooo... how was America? " The younger voice was a notch more joyful than during what had been their conversation so far.

"Humph. " Seto raised his shoulders, ready to go back to his keyboard and his numbers, but Mokuba wouldn't have it.

He pressed his untalkative sibling further.

"Come on, you went to New York, right? How was it? Did you enjoy yourself? "

"I saw a show at Broadway. "

The benjamin prayed Seto hadn't brought his laptop with him during the show. "And... ?"

Seto made it visible that he felt like he was being unjustly interrogated, his eyes squirmin away from his more sociable brother.

"I went to the, the natural science museum that you told me about... "

"Cool! But that was for work, right? You said you wanted inspiration for the new designs. Come on, did you go out? Did you meet up with Anzu? "

As a reply, Mokuba was served the Dark Magician, the Blue Eyes White Dragon, the Exodia of eyerolls.

"The twat leaving for the other side of the planet is one of the best things that have happened to me, and possibly the best thing that could _ever_ happen to me after beating Yuugi Mouto in a duel. The day that I seek her presence is the day you can declare me mentally deranged. "

Mokuba silently disapproved of Seto's childish attitude, but at the same time knew that she and his brother never were the best of friends.

Still, distance makes the heart grow fonder, doesn't it? "Well, Anzu is... Anzu, but I'm sure it would have been fun to hang out with her a bit! It wouldn't have hurt you", he said when he saw Seto's exasperation. He grabbed the candy tin, using it as a prop.

"But you were in Chicago, too, so you at least saw Jounouchi, right? "

The interrogated one sat completely still, except when he flickered his teal tinted eyes back to the computer screen.

"I mean, I know you guys weren't the best of friends either", he risked, "but you guys are also business partners in away, because of the grant and all. You went to check on him, right? "

Seto's adam's apple jerked up and slid back down. His forehead muscles poked at his skin. Mokuba racked his brains to find a way for his brother to open up without damaging his pride - an impossible quest only he could undertake.

"Okay, I meant, you went to check on your... 'investment'? You know, to keep tabs on how your money is being used? "

The socially challenged half of the Kaiba siblings squirmed even harder under the other's gentle, but unfaltering gaze.

"Seto... "

It had never been so hard to him to keep his poker face intact.

Stupidly enough, the genius CEO had thought of detailed and unarguable reasons to explain his new acquisitions - the prison land and the correctional facility management company - to shareholders, journalists, employees - but not to his little brother. He sat still as he waited for the fatal final blow. He could not possibly tell Mokuba he hadn't bothered checking with Jou the whole year, until he received a prison phone call that prompted him to buy said prison on a whim, and getting away with it. Seto Kaiba was an eccentric, but he was aware his behaviour would be considered devious by most members of society. including his overly sane little brother.

"... Do you even know where Jou is? "

An escape. Unhoped for. Seto was almost ready to consider the existence of a God.

The sudden relief washing over his elder's features seemed to be solid enough proof for Mokuba. What he had feared most had indeed happened - Seto Kaiba was slowly alienating himself from his highschool acquaintances. The raven-haired boy lift his head up in realization, burying his face in his hands.

"Ugh! "

He then stood up, irked, but missing his brother's face. grateful and embarassed at the saem time. He felt such exasperation towards his brother at that moment that he didn't want to even _look at_ him. Pensive, he strolled to the square-shaped bed located on the far left of the room, by the equally immense glass door that lead to the balcony.

"You had someone buy these at the airport, I bet. " He tossed the candy on the bed as he spoke.

A few minutes passed. Since Seto felt like his brother needed both physical space and some time to gather his thoughts, he did not speak up nor did he move towards him.

But more importantly, at this point, because Mokuba hadn't yet translated his 'ugh' into Japanese, anything that Seto would said would make him sound like he was trying to justify himself.

And so he waiting for his emotionally healthy little brother to express himself, but it took him all the willpower he had left at this late - rather, early hour of the morning - not to resume his activities. He knew the sound of him typing away at his keyboard would insult Mokuba, who also possessed the Kaiba gene that made both of them exceptionally irritable when sleep deprived. And since it was already well past Mokuba's usual sleep time, the little one had probably exerted himself by showing such patience towards Seto's uncooperative attitude.

"Seto", the other commenced, still not facing him, "I'm - I don't... " He struggled a bit with wording, trying to be as diplomatic as possible. "You don't have to isolate yourself like this. "

Seto stayed cool and collected, not feeling threatened - yet - by what he was hearing. It true that Seto Kaiba wasn't as well surrounded in his private than his filled agenda and well documented public life made believe.

He sensed, gladly, that Mokuba's mood was somehow tuning in with his own. The boy's voice was softer as he spoke again.

"It's like your life ended after high school. You drowned yourself in work. You always keep yourself occupied with something or other, always hesitant to delegate. "

So far, his little brother was being more rational than emotional, and that made Seto more receptive to his words. He had loathed Anzu's friendship speeches because they were illogical. But if Mokuba came up with the same message, backed up by solid proof and arguments, then maybe, maybe Seto would be willing to consider it.

"The only person you let revolve around you these days is Otogi, and even so, you guys just keep fighting all the time, taunting each other at every occasion. " He took a deep breath as if to brace himself for what he was going to say next.

"It's like you shifted your anger on him since Jou left... "

Seto's pride went in alert mode, and the young man snapped.

"What am I to you, Mokuba, a patient? A case? Is it your psychology major that renders you so apt to analyse me? During your 40-hour long, bi-monthly field trips to Domino?", Seto hissed through his teeth.

Mokuba was taken aback by the sudden reaction of his brother. "Don't get mad, Seto. "

I'm just concerned about you, he thought to himself.

"And how _kind_ of you to disrupt my work with your whining. "

Mokuba's eyes widened in shock.

"Hey, you were the one who said we'd spend some time together at dinner, as soon as you were done for the day! And you barricaded yourself in your room and never left! I didn't even hear you going to the washroom! I assumed at some point you'd gotten so absorbed in your work, that you forgot about us entirely. "

"Very reassuring to know how closely you keep tabs on my physiological needs. "

"That's very not funny, Seto", he pleaded. "I waited until, what, 2 AM to come because I knew you had a lot of catch up to do, since you were abroad and everything. I'm sorry if I need to go to sleep like normal humans do! "

Seto heaved a sigh.

"Mokie... "

The smaller man shrugged the whole argument off. _If only Jou had been able to do the same..._

He moved on, as he knew it was necessary to go past Seto Kaiba's flaws and appreciate him for what he is inside.

Violet eyes wandered around the room, narrowing as they focused on an small object standing on the angular piece of furniture by Seto's bed.

"What's that for? " He reached over to a white opaque bottle clashing with the ebony night table.

"Jet lag", Seto offered without hesitation.

"Oh". It was a simple explanation. Simple enough for Mokuba, at least, who laid the miniature container where it was, not before he could memorize the chemical printed on the prescription label.

"Anyway, Seto, I'm sorry I lashed out on you. All I'm saying is, you don't have to be like this. I think you should call Jou, just to, you know, ask how he's doing... Even if it's just to make sure that he's not failing his grades or anything. I mean money's good, and he gets money deposits from you and all, but maybe he needs to be cheered up a bit. Homesickness and all... " He trailed off.

Seto was the one to break the awkward, emotion-ridden silence that had fallen upon them.

"Jounouchi is half American, remember? He- I bet he's blending in better than we think. He doesn't need us. "

He didn't contradict his little brother any further. It suited him that Mokuba think Joey still was in school all year, while that was not the case. Worse, Seto had never received any transcript or tuition invoice for any kind of schooling. It was agreed from the start that the mutt could do whatever he wanted with the monthly installements from KaibaCorp, as long as he stayed away from its CEO for a while. Then he would not only be free to do as wished, but also anywhere he wanted.

"Maybe... but I don't think that's true. I think he'd be happy to hear from you. From what Yuugi tells me, he doesn't call out or write all that often. "

Tired eyelids were raised in surprise.

"You talk to Yuugi? "

"Um, yeah? We're not in the same school, but we make time to hang out in the city. Besides, we're not alone! Honda comes by whenever he's off from duty, and -" He was cut off by Seto's bitter remark.

"I couldn't care less about the whereabouts of the Friendship Squad. "

Mokuba felt like his own brand of friendship preaching had reached a limit, and didn't want to impose it on his brother any longer.

"Anyway, I'd better go to bed if I want to be fresh for tomorrow, so I'll leave you to your work. " He walked up to the back of the couch and gave his brother a brief, but tight hug around the neck. "Sweet dreams, Seto."

He heaved another sigh, hopeful that his words would eventually sink into his brother's thick skull. As he reached for the doorway whence he came, he added:

"Oh, and I'm not a Psychology major anymore. I'm switching to Sociology. "

And soon the sound of the muffled steps were sealed behind the closed door that link the two brothers' rooms together.

The blue eyed man did feel tired, although not because of the jet lag as he had hinted earlier, and it indeed seemed wise for him to get some shut eye, but now that his benjamin had successfully reawakened the image of the mutt in his mind's eye, Seto knew it was futile to even hope he could fall asleep.

He shut his laptop and laid it on the couch next to him, and remained immobile, comfortably wrapped in the mute darkness around him, debating.

Debating whether he should reach for the little bottle that had drawn his brother's attention, and that would blissfully provide him with a dreamless night.

ooo ooooo ooo

Thanks for reading. I'd really appreciate concrit on this chapter :)


End file.
